


Saturday Night In

by Terminallydepraved



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Drunken Confessions, HK800!Hank, HK900!Hank, Human!Connor, M/M, reverse!au - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 13:29:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15365709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: Connor really shouldn't drink so much.





	Saturday Night In

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Saturday Night In週六晚上](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15508062) by [Jumpfish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jumpfish/pseuds/Jumpfish)



> a lovely individual on twitter gifted me with many tasty coffees so i wrote this as a thank you! Enjoy!

Drinking on a weekend was probably a normal thing for most men Connor’s age. He was only thirty, still in the prime of his youth, after all. Going out with his coworkers, tossing back a few beers, laughing with the guys…

Well, maybe anyone else could handle something like that with no problem. Connor, on the other hand, never did get the hang of that silly little thing called _restraint._

“Up you go,” a rough voice grunted in his ear, heaving him through the doorway as easily as lifting a sack of flour. “Come on. Nearly there.”

“Should I lock the front door?” another voice asked.

“No,” Hank grunted. Connor’s vision turned sideways as his feet left the ground. “We’ll leave after we put him to bed.”

The dark, familiar sight of his hallway penetrated Connor’s haze. They were home? When had that happened? He tangled his fingers in the shirt against his cheek. Moving but not walking… Hank was carrying him.

“You can’t leave,” he slurred, not really caring if Hank heard or not. He always seemed to understand him regardless. “It’s a sleepover. Sleep with me. Will you?” God, Connor wanted to. He really, really wanted to sleep with Hank.

Heavy. Hot. Massive hands pawed at Connor’s body, dragging him down, pulling him through the darkness until the familiar scent of his sheets tickled his nose.

“Detective, you’re intoxicated,” Hank reported in that tired, pedantic voice of his. Connor turned towards the sound, grinning wide, blinking blearily. He reached out a hand and swung at the pale hair hovering over his head— a glowy smear of yellow cut through the darkness, a star in the black shadows of his room. Connor’s hand cut through the air until it was snagged in one of those big hands.

“’M not drunk,” Connor mumbled, shaking his head a little too hard. His vision swam, his stomach churning. “But… Hank, why’re there two of you?”

“Did you forget that HK900 accompanied us?” Hank muttered, looking away from Connor to look at his hand instead. Connor frowned. That was dumb. Hank should only look at him. He wanted all of his attention. “I should have cut you off. You’re a mess.”

Sticking his tongue out, Connor kicked at the sheets and whined. “You’re a mess,” he shot back, smiling despite himself. He tugged on Hank’s hand, his other reaching out for the blur of white and glowing blue that signaled the other android. “Come on,” he mumbled, wagging his hand pointedly when it wasn’t held. “Sleepover time. ’S not fair if it’s not both of you.”

“What is he talking about?” Flat voice. HK900.

A sigh. Definitely Hank. “Just humor him,” the android murmured, propping a knee on the mattress when Connor yanked at his hand. “He won’t give it up and sleep unless you do.”

Connor wrinkled his nose. “You say that like I’m some kinda…” He closed his eyes for a second, the ceiling beginning to spin. “Some kinda kid,” he finished, swallowing the impulse to hurl. Maybe he had drank a little too much at the bar. That’s what he got though. Everyone always gave him shit for waving off the after-work bar crawls, but this was proof enough he was better off just going home.

Something warm wrapped around his hand, snatching it from the air. “Kids have better impulse control than you do, Detective,” a voice said dryly. Another dip in the mattress. HK900 crawled onto the bed beside him.

“Haaaaaaank,” Connor whined. “Tell him to be nice.”

Drunk as he was, he could practically taste Hank’s eye roll. “Not when he’s telling the truth, I won’t.” The bedsprings squeaked and groaned. “Detective, I don’t think your bed was made with this number of occupants in mind.”

Connor squeezed the hands holding his. He rolled his head on the pillow… Huh. When had he gotten a pillow? Weird… It was kinda firm, more of an arm than a… than a pillow… Shiny white fabric swirled in front of his nose. This looked familiar.

“Detective?”

Oh. Right. Connor blinked, licking at his lips. “’S not fair if it’s not both.” He tugged at their hands, bringing them to his cheeks. Warm. So warm. The hair on the backs of their hands tickled his skin. Who even thought to do that? What kinda person went around putting body hair on androids? ‘Specially the… the big ones, the gruff, sexy kind with the low voices and big hands and fuck, they probably had such big di—

Connor locked up when something soft tickled his ear next. A warm puff of air teased the lobe. “You’re talking out loud, Connor,” Hank said.

“So, you should probably go to sleep,” HK900 finished, a laugh lying in wait just beneath his impassive façade.

Heat rushed Connor’s cheeks, down his neck, along his shoulders. He closed his eyes. Oh, shit.

“Forget I said anything,” he mumbled, holding tighter to their hands. “You’re just… imagining things. You’re the drunk ones.”

“Sure, Connor,” Hank said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Whatever you say,” HK900 said, following suite.

**Author's Note:**

> its my first foray into the reverse!au but it was pretty fun! i hope yall enjoyed, and if youd like to follow me on twitter (tdcloud_writes) you can check out all my dbh shitposting. also check out my published works on amazon and kindle! im under the name T.D. Cloud on there!


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